


A Study in Jumping Chickens

by Imaginationsss



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginationsss/pseuds/Imaginationsss
Summary: Basically a short fic of Johnlock addicted to the Chicken Scream game and Lestrade getting excited without knowing what's actually happening.





	

**Author's Note:**

> An Idea got into my brain on 2am and this fanfic was born.  
> (Implied johnlock & just to be safe I rated teen and up audiences)  
> Enjoy! :D

"Aahh! Ahh.. ahh.. ahhh!!" 

"..."

"Aaa.. oooh... oww!!"

"... John,"

"Wait a second Sher- AH! NOT AGAIN!" John shrieked irritably while messing his own hair in frustration. 

"John, may I know what are you doing exactly?" Sherlock asked. 

He turned around to look at the doctor whose face was now sour and his eyes locked on his phone's screen. John let out a long sigh, not even bothering to look at Sherlock. 

"John, it's just a mobile game," The consulting detective said after catching a glimpse on his flatmate's phone screen. 

"I know. I know I'm bad with games but it's irritating to not being able to score higher than 20 when I've been playing it the whole day," John answered almost immediately. 

"You interested, Sherlock ?" John asked suddenly after what it seemed to be a long silence. 

"Not interested and not worth my time," Sherlock replied bluntly. 

"Are you sure ?" 

"Yes,"

"Oh come on, you've got no case at all for now,"

"John, I am busy,"

"Oh, I can see that rather clearly. You're just sitting on your chair in your mind palace doing nothing since morning. Yes, of course you're so busy," 

No reply came from the taller man.

"Come on Sherlock, just try it," 

"..."

"I bet you can't beat my highscore Sherlock, this is a challege," John said.

He knows this is going to trigger Sherlock. The man hates losing after all. 

"The game is on," 

\-----------------

The next morning, Lestrade called Sherlock in for a case. They had assumed that it was another case of a serial killer. But of course, without Sherlock's confirmation, it's still simply a speculation. 

Lestrade was waiting in his office room when Sherlock and John came rushing in talking, no, arguing about something he couldn't hear quite clearly. The thing is, apparently, even without Sherlock's brilliant deductions, as how John often compliments him, Lestrade could easily tell the two has not been really sleeping from their dark circles and cracked voice. It might be normal for Sherlock but not for John.

"Sherlock, that doesn't change the fact that I won our bet," John smirked.

"You kept bothering me when it's my turn, John Watson," Sherlock protested. 

"No, I was just-,"

"Gentlemen, may I have your attention?" Lestrade awkwardly broke their silly argument. 

"Ah yes, Lestrade, details of the case, please," Sherlock shot up. Still looking at John intently. 

"... Am I disturbing anything?" Lestrade asked again. 

"No, no, not at all," John answered. 

The two men immediately broke their intense staring. 

"So, as I was saying on the call, we have found yet another victim with the same stab wound as the previous ones you had seen last week. Thus, there are three victims now. Care to take a look ?"

"Absolutely," Sherlock replied. 

They directly went to the morgue at Bart's as usual and as soon as they arrived, Sherlock started examining the corpse. Strangely enough, Lestrade couldn't help but noticing how often Sherlock secretly glanced at his phone in his pocket and John. After he seemed to be finished with his examination, Sherlock nodded silently. 

"What is it ? Anything useful?" Lestrade asked questionably.

"Of course," 

"Care to elaborate?" 

"After a toilet break. Come on John, let's settle things first," Sherlock replied, already walking to the restrooms' direction. 

"Yes, Sherlock. Sorry Greg, we'll be back soon," John said, grinning and he sped up to chase the thin detective who's already far in front. 

\--  
And so now, Lestrade is left alone with only corpses around him as his company. The officer aimlessly starts to walk around the room, constantly checking his wrist watch. 

Seven. Bloody. Minutes. 

What the hell are those two doing. The restrooms are just around the corner and he had seen with his own eyes the two of them entering it. So, again, the question is:

why are they taking so long? 

That's exactly when he suddenly hears a scream coming from the corner of the corridor. 

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the scream, or rather, the moan, belongs to Sherlock. 

Wasting no more time, Lestrade dashes to the toilets with his gun ready and is going to barge open the door when he heard explicit sounds coming from inside the room. 

Lestrade just simply can't believe what he's hearing. 

Thus, he sticks his ears to the door to hear clearly what exactly is happening in there. 

"Ahgh! John! I can't anymore! My voice is-"

"Shush. I am also trying my best to-" 

And Lestrade immediately curses himself on his decision to even leave the company of the corpses. He slowly takes a step back and sneaked back to the morgue silently. Half-running.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the restroom door opens.

John. 

"Sorry Greg, Sherlock is still-" 

"No, I understand. It's fine, really," Lestrade says, forcing a smile (or more like a smirk)

"Ah.. I take it you heard us ? Well yeah, you know he's playing this game really hard. I guess it is partly my fault too, actually. He's probably going to be embarrassed if anyone else saw him like that, so..." John replied casually. 

"Yes, yes. I get your point John and don't worry! My lips are sealed!" Lestrade quickly cut it off. 

When Sherlock finally comes out, he was adjusting his scarf and his voice cracks more than before. 

Lestrade is sure to have a great story for the yard to gossip upon tonight. 

 

 

 

Extra:  
(On their way back to baker street) 

"Who knew the mighty Sherlock Holmes is useless on mobile games," John teases 

"Shut up, It's just because of my deep voice the chicken can't jump. Who am I to blame? It's hard to make high pitched sounds, John," Sherlock spits back, irritated. 

"Just so you know, I fancy that deep voice of yours that you seemed to think of it as a disadvantage," 

"What ?" 

"What ?" 

 

 

".. umm, sorry? what jumping chickens?"

Lestrade just had to ask. 

 

:DD TEEHEE :DD

**Author's Note:**

> Orz I am truly sorry if it's actually not at all funny. I've not been writing for a long time and I was half asleep writing this //slapped.  
> Anyhow, thank you for reading this crappy fic ! :D  
> Any feedbacks are greatly appreciated! :DD


End file.
